Saitama X Reader One-Punch Man
by mEmEmEiStEr
Summary: You, a normal civil person, (or you thought), find Saitama's (the guy thats a hero for fun) cape and attempt to return it. He has no idea who he has just met


**_Disclaimer: I own nothing of One-Punch Man, enjoy the story._**

You're average. A person, on the streets, someone who has a job, but less of family. One difference: you have a mind incomparable to many others, you don't make such abilities visible, instead keep them to their _average_ type. You never believed in monsters until you actually saw one, you never thought heros existed, until you met one. . . . .

CHAPTER ONE-- The Cape

Normal, boring day as usual. A day of pointless work, a night of binge-watching cringey anime, and some weird Japanese food you eat, that you don't even know the name of. The constant evacuations were exhausting, and it seemed despicable now, that you had no chance of being harmed. You see stupid looking people in the streets having certain icons and outfits, popularity, all sorts of things _real_ heros don't need to protect us, or some, you predict, just do it for fun. You only investigate when the one particular hero rarely comes out to fight, he's usually solo, and seems to take out opponents with one hit of the fist. It all sounds like dilly-dabble to you, everything seems so unrealistic. But- his coordinates are so precise, so defined, and perfectly aligned with every victims weakest part. It's such a good tactic, you can't believe the guys faking.

Today, you sit in an old cafè. No one ever is there but you, you practically run the place on all it has. The loud speakers outside pierce your ears as you continue sipping the caramel off the top of the tiny cup of coffee. You sit there, stiff, but you turn the wheelie seat furiously to the large glass windows and peer, annoyed, out at the scene. You saw one hero, a guy, on a bike, and poorly armored. First him getting clobbered severely by a rough buff man. About 2 more arrived, also, getting pounded into the walls. Silence broke. Your heart beat as you curiously glared, you sensed your favorite part coming. The baldy. . . . . **_BOOOOMM!!!_**

The muscle toned Chaos jaw was slammed out of place as his eyes blacked out. Dead. He was dead. The streak of yellow ran passed the window so fast, but you still saw him. You always did. He may be fast, but not faster than your eyes. He's gone in an instant. But- something floats down in the air. A cape. Wait- a cape? Why the cape? He lost his cape, you thought.

 _Does he know he lost his cape?_

You sit for a few moments, and the cape doesn't move. "I'm gonna go grab that cape," you whisper to yourself, "that guy looks pretty retarded without a cape," you ramble on, "I need to return that cape." You swing the doors open, and look both ways while darting for the cape. You sprinted home with it in your arms. After slamming the door, you chuck it on the couch, curious as to where the owner is. You felt the fabric it was made up of, it's very soft. You wonder where it was made, by a master-craftsman? By himself? Or simply just ordered off the internet? It's collar had a sewed patch to it, it's print read, "3473 Z". "The hell? An address, maybe?" You searched up the numbers, with the Z. City Z, Apartment building on Farukon St., room number, 3473, residents name, S* for privacy reasons. "City Z? The ghost town? Or _so called_ , anyways." You threw on an old trench coat and tied what much of your hair you had up into a small, buddy, pony tail. The travel is beginning. . . . .

"WHAT THE LITERAL FUCK??!" The roads are filled to the max, flooding over came City W. "FUCK THIS SHIT, IM WALKING." You ditched your car. It's not like anyone was gonna be driving today. Most people where distant to City Z and W. W's not far from Z. You flipped your hood up and started sprinting to the City, it doesn't take you long, considering you have abilities, that the author has not yet explained to you- OOP- forgot about that fourth wall, sorry, anyways, the receptionist of the building looks at you strangely, "are you here for someone?"

"Uh- yep, anyone here with a name that starts with an S?" You asked, leaning on the counter, "a baldy? Sometimes wearing a yellow body suit?". The receptionist stared at you, "yes, a few residents... May I ask, why are you looking for them? Girlfriend or something?", you went wide eyed for a second, "uh- no no no no no, just someone. I need to give them something-"

"Why are you looking for Saitama." A voice from behind you sent shivers up your spine. You slowly turned around. "None of your bees wax-"

"Tell me now, or you won't _ever_ see him." A blonde kid, taller than you, for sure, and- what the- cyborg eyes/arms? "Why does it matter, I don't even know who I'm talking about myself, I just-" you paused, "it's dangerous to tell strangers all this." You eyed him. "I don't care. I need a reason, or I could report you as a threat." He coldly responded, gripping your arm. Sweat dripped from your forehead, and you sighed exhausted. "I need to speak with him?"

"Very well. My name is Genos, I am Masters disciple, and am a hero, as well. Who are you?" You stared at him. "Your cyborg arms look so real, and, cool contact lenses. My names (Y/N), I'm a person. Because I was born. So yeah."

"Their not fake, and these aren't contact lenses. Anyways..." He went on-- "actually, can we just go find baldy, or whatever? I have stuff to do." You cut him off.

To Be _CONTINUED--_


End file.
